What Measure Honor
by Z98
Summary: It had been many years since Grace Reynolds last met her old classmate, Daven Adams. When Adams appears as a prospective candidate to fill a hole in her squadron, old emotions stir within Reynolds. Such thoughts are quickly forced aside however as they are drawn into a race to save Earth. In the process, Reynolds finds that to her, Adams is more than just a wingman or a friend.
1. Prologue

Prologue: Sheathed

At first glance the pilot seated in the briefing room was fairly nondescript, his features as plain and unassuming as any of the thousands of men serving in the United Nations of Earth Navy. Lieutenant (Senior Grade) Grace Reynolds had made that same mistake when she first met the pilot as a fellow trainee at the UNE Naval Academy. By the time the two had graduated, with the highest and second highest simulation scores going to herself and one Daven Adams respectively, there was nothing nondescript or plain about the man as far as she was concerned. They parted ways after graduation and until now had never drawn the same squadron assignment. Now Adams was sitting there in the room, waiting for her to arrive. Reynolds spent another minute simply looking through the window trying to decide what she felt at seeing him again after so long. Giving up, Reynolds walked into the room.

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Daven Adams stood as he saw Reynolds enter and saluted crisply. Reynolds returned it and tried to keep her face composed. The slight smirk on Adam's face told her she had failed.

"Lieutenant Adams. It's been a while."

The moment she opened her mouth Reynolds regretted the words that came out. Not that they were too clichéd or the like, but she had just put Adams in a very inconvenient spot. Across his throat was the scar that had so shaken Reynolds, marking the wound that robbed Adams of his voice. To greet him with such a prompt was not the most polite thing Reynolds could have done. As Reynolds tried to figure out how to get out of this hole she had dug for herself, Adams' hands rose and he pointed to his shoulder with them before rolling them out so that the index fingers pointed away from him. He then brought up his right hand and seemed to pinch something in the air with his index finger and thumb.

_Been a while since_.

Reynolds' eyes went wide. "Uh, yes it has. And uh, since when did you learn how to sign?"

The smirk widened ever so slightly as Adams pointed at his throat. Reynolds now really felt like kicking herself.

"Oh, I see. Umm, sorry."

Adams' right hand flashed a two sign with the thumb between the open fingers.

_Okay_.

As evidenced by their exchange there was nothing wrong with Adams' hearing. If anything, Adams' humor seemed to have survived the horrible maiming that had forced him to spend a year rehabilitating. Even then, Adams was actually far luckier than the rest of his old squadron. He was the only survivor of an accidental skirmish between his squad and a Colonial taskforce and his own fighter had been so shot up that it was a miracle Adams managed to return to base. For that matter, his fighter's navigation system was so thoroughly trashed that Adams had been forced to plot the fold jump manually. That achievement and the fact that he made it back in time to warn the base about the Colonial strike force earned him the Silver Star now adorning his uniform. The navy had also tried to medically discharge him but Adams' insistence on getting back in a cockpit was hard to deny, especially after being lauded a hero so publicly. Even that should not have been enough to allow him to defy the doctors however and Reynolds fully intended on prying the details out of Adams, if he passed the evaluation today to see whether he was actually fit for duty.

"So, you still remember what to do behind the stick?" Reynolds asked as she moved to the front of the room.

Adams signed an affirmative as his gaze followed Reynolds.

"Good, then you get to prove it." Turning on the projector, Reynolds brought up a few different coordinates. "We'll keep things simple. Some basic maneuvers and target practice. You'll be evaluated in an Apex today, Scythe tomorrow if things go well, and a bomber the day after. Any questions?"

Adams shook his head.

"Okay, go get suited up. I'll meet you down in the hanger in ten."

The lieutenant clicked his heels together and made his way out. Reynolds headed towards the women's locker to change herself and when she arrived at the hanger six minutes later, Adams was already leaning against his bird waiting. How he managed to get there so fast would likely remain a mystery but Reynolds did her best to avoid any visible reaction to his speed.

Once convinced Adams' preflight check was completed by the book, Reynolds climbed into her own bird and quickly mowed through the launch preparations. Her arms twitched in anticipation and the slightest of trepidation. It was a silly thing as she had logged hundreds of hours in an Apex fighter. Yet for some reason her body still felt the need to express a nervous jitter right before it soared into space. Then again, a slight jitter was much better than throwing up into her helmet like what happened on her first actual flight outside a simulator. Reynolds grimaced at the embarrassing memory and shook her head. She was a long way from the academy and this time she was the one doing the looking after.

"Lieutenant Reynolds, you are clear for launch," the controller announced.

"Acknowledged. Reynolds, launching!"

The fighter catapulted out of the hanger and continued accelerating along the launch ramp. Once clear, Reynolds kept straight ahead for a few more seconds to make sure she was completely clear of subsequent launches before veering off to the side. As she arced around, Reynolds caught sight of Adams shooting out. The other pilot mirrored Reynolds' caution but wasted little time falling in line behind her after swinging around. It seemed Adams still remembered which way to turn the stick.

"Okay Adams, let's do a flyby of the supply platform. Slow and steady."

An acknowledgment clicked over the radio but a slightly longer text message popped up on her HUD.

_Slow and steady as the lieutenant says_.

Reynolds could not help but chuckle but her response was still sternly voiced. "Don't get too fresh, Adams. Remember, your wings stay clipped until I say otherwise."

This time the click came with no additional commentary.

The pair of fighters glided lazily towards the platform though Adams seemed to be thoroughly enjoying being back in a cockpit. His craft was continuously rolling the entire flight over. Reynolds was about to deliver another stern warning when Adams finally stopped as they arrived at their target destination.

"This is the _Proteus_," Reynolds said instead. "It's carrying supplies to the UNE fleet. Hold on while I do a scan."

Adams acknowledged the order but there generally was a lot of latitude on how to 'hold on' inside a fighter. Consequentially, Adams was literally standing the fighter on its nose and maintaining a relative velocity of zero with the supply platform. That was no small feat considering all of the forces acting on the fighter, from its previous momentum to the pull of Earth below them. Reynolds tried to not let his antics distract her and hurried through the scan.

"Okay, everything looks good. _Proteus_, you're cleared to go."

"Thanks Reynolds. We're moving out now."

"Let's give them an escort until they get to the foldpoint," Reynolds said.

As a freighter, _Proteus_' acceleration was downright anemic. The greatest risk in escorting the freighter while in Earth orbit was someone getting so bored they got sloppy and crashed their own ship in the process. Reynolds kept her focus squarely on Adams, watching to see if his fighter veered in any way. Adams did not disappoint however and stayed on course. Only after _Proteus_ folded out did his fighter start spinning again as he flew around in circles waiting for new instructions.

"Next up we'll see if you still remember how to shoot. I've forwarded fold coordinates for the shooting range." Reynolds hesitated for the briefest of moments before continuing. "Since you're under evaluation, I want to see if you can get there before-"

That was all the permission Adams needed as he hit the thrusters. The fighter shot toward the designated coordinates and the head start he had guaranteed Reynolds would get there second. Gritting her teeth even as she fought to suppress a smile, Reynolds gunned her own thrusters and chased after Adams. This was a bit too much like back at the academy for her tastes.

"Okay, that'll do," she said as Adams signaled his arrival at the fold point.

With the coordinates locked in, the two fighters engaged their fold engines. Her ship shuddered at the moment of transition before emerging further out system. Shattered hull fragments were sprinkled about though they had folded out far enough out to avoid any accidental collisions.

"This was the frigate _Pandora_," Reynolds said. "We've been using her as target practice. The wreckage is pretty volatile so it shouldn't take much to detonate any remains."

The console beeped as Adams' message was printed.

_Even with this peashooter?_

Reynolds chuckled. "Get to work, Adams."

The Crew 500ep plasma cannon currently mounted on his fighter was the weakest of the light craft grade weapons available to the UNE. The low charge of each shot meant a fighter could fire continuously for quite some time before depleting its energy reserves, but there was something to be said for having a beefier gun like the 1000ep or even the newest 1500ep. Fortunately today all Adams had to worry about was blowing up fragments of an already thoroughly wrecked ship. Even a 'peashooter' like the 500ep could handle that much as Adams was demonstrating by blowing apart a trio of pieces in quick succession.

"Try out the missiles," Reynolds instructed.

Adams fired off a pair of missiles in quick succession, though the interval between them was so tight the good lieutenant apparently wasted almost no time letting them go after acquiring lock. His reflexes had obviously not deteriorated while on rehab. Reynolds watched Adams score two more kills before deciding to call him in.

"Alright, that's enough, we can head back to-"

The sudden beeping of the alarm cut her off and Reynolds immediately switched to the emergency channel.

"-the freighter _Proteus_! We are under attack one foldpoint out from Earth! Requesting assistance from any UNE ships in the area!"

"_Proteus_, this is Reynolds, I copy. Hang on, rescue is on the way."

"Better hurry, there's a lot of these guys here and we can't hold out for long!"

"Understood." Reynolds closed the FTL channel. "Adams, you heard him. Let's haul ass."

The fighters moved out of the debris field and lined up to the fold gate. A flash and they disappeared, reappearing light years away with the light show of plasma splattering the hull of the _Proteus_ right before them.

"Interceptors are breaking off to head us off," Reynolds said as she watched half a dozen signals move towards them. "Adams, ignore them. Focus on the fighters, I'll watch your tail."

Adams acknowledged her instructions with a click and charged forth. The interceptors raced forth to meet them and the two sides hurtled towards a head on collision. At the last second, Adams let loose a burst of machinegun fire and a single missile. The barrage stripped off the lead interceptor's shields, leaving it completely vulnerable as the missile smashed into its frame. The explosion startled its compatriots who wobbled about as Adams shot right past them. Reynolds opened fire, emulating Adams' opening but following up with bursts of plasma fire. Her own fighter had been equipped with the Crew 1000ep and the more powerful cannon easily ripped through the light armor of the interceptors.

With one target down Reynolds spun her fighter around and quickly acquired a missile lock. She let loose and watched as the impact shattered the enemy's shield and even peppered the hull with shrapnel. A single burst of plasma was enough to blow it apart.

Three of the surviving interceptors had peeled off after Adams. Instead of staying to dogfight with the other two, Reynolds gave chase. She did not escape unchallenged however as her shield flared from the impact of machinegun fire. The searing red subsided but from her HUD Reynolds took note of the two interceptors giving chase. Alarms started blaring as a lock was detected, the siren growing ever shriller as the missile hurtled closer and closer. When the sound was one near continuous tone, Reynolds hit the EM pulse and watched in satisfaction as the missile careened off harmlessly to the side.

Reynolds was now in range herself and opened fire, methodically stripping one interceptor of its shields before finishing it off with a quick plasma burst. The other interceptor veered off and Reynolds rolled right with it, this time letting a missile soften it up. The explosion knocked the interceptor aside but the light craft stubbornly refused to stop weaving about. Unable to line up her cannons for a clean shot, Reynolds switched to her machineguns and simply sprayed the space before her. Her target wobbled and soon lost control completely as its hull was punctured by the fire. It exploded not long after though Reynolds was already spinning around to deal with the survivors.

The interceptors split off, forcing her to choose a target. As Reynolds made her decision however, her next would be victim disappeared in a flash. The remaining Colonial signals also started dropping and soon enough only she, Adams, and the _Proteus_ were left.

"Adams, status."

Text scrolled across her HUD.

_Got four. Others ran. Want a bigger gun._

"I think we can both agree on that," Reynolds said dryly, though she could not help but be impressed by his kills.

Even with only a 500ep, Adams had managed to kill as many enemies as her despite the fighters he brought down boasting better shields and armor than the interceptors she had dueled with. At this point Reynolds' mind was made up. The fleet needed Adams back in a cockpit and she needed him to make her squadron whole again. That was at least two problems off her plate, but others were appearing just as quickly.

"_Proteus_, are you going to be okay from here?"

"We'll be fine. Thanks Reynolds. We need to get going though, need to get the supplies to the fleet."

"Okay. Adams and I are heading back. Hope the rest of your trip will be less eventful."

"You and me both. _Proteus_ clear."

As the _Proteus_ disappeared, Reynolds angled her own ship towards the fold gate for Earth.

"How did they get so far deep?" Reynolds wondered aloud over the radio. "They must have stripped the defenses completely bare."

Even as she spoke, Reynolds punched in a quick report to make sure Command knew about the incident. After the transmission went out, she waited a minute or so for an acknowledgment of its receipt. Nothing came however and she frowned.

"We'd better get back," Reynolds said as the possibilities of why she was receiving nothing flashed through her head. "Command isn't responding."

Adams clicked in acknowledgment and the two fighters activated their fold engines once more. Perhaps the greatest advantage of light craft was the speed with which their engines could cycle. They might not have the range of larger engines, but only having to lug around the mass of a light craft meant the cooldown was significantly shorter. Then again, their fighters did not need the ability to fold long distances. That was what the fold gates they now entered was for.

As the pair emerged, their radios immediately came alive.

"-Orbital Station 14, we are under attack! Requesting assistance from any available UNE ships!"

"What the-how did they get all the way to Earth!?"

_Talk later, shoot now_.

Even as the message scrolled across her HUD Adams was charging ahead. A few enemy fighters peeled off from attacking the station to meet him and Reynolds was right behind. Indicators highlighted two of the oncoming fighters and Reynolds sent back her own acknowledgment. Technically Adams was her wingman, but with him already ahead she could only follow his lead.

As they two sides closed the range between them, Adams opened up with machineguns again. He stripped the shields off his first target but instead of swinging about to finish it off Adams blew right past the fighter and peppered another target with bullets. Reynolds however was perfectly positioned to deliver the follow on and a steady stream of plasma smashed the two fighters Adams had softened up. The enemy charge shattered, the two fighters sped towards the station.

The station continued spitting fire at its attackers but the smoldering nubs that were turrets marked the distinct lack of success they were having. The Colonials did not get to enjoy their own successes for much longer as Adams locked onto a fighter and opened fire. He was going in for fast kills, blasting away shields before locking on and letting off a missile even as he looked for another target. The only problem with his approach was Adams was not waiting long enough to confirm a kill before moving on as Reynolds watched an EM burst scramble one of the missiles. She was right on Adams' tail however and opened fire, blowing apart the fighter as it slowed, apparently having believed it was safe after dodging the missile. Swinging about, Reynolds chased after Adams and was just in time to pick off another briefly lucky fighter.

More fighters however did not get their EM pulses off in time and Adams left a stream of wreckage in his wake. Half the attackers were dead at this point and the station was doing a better job focusing its fire. With their numbers so reduced the enemy could no longer gang up against the two fighters and Reynolds peeled off to do some hunting of her own. The Colonial pilots were not bad per se, but they were obviously shaken by the brutality suddenly inflicted upon them. Her own target dodged and weaved trying to stay out of her line of fire but all that achieved was force Reynolds to eat away at its armor with machineguns instead of a quick kill from her plasma cannon.

As the enemy fighter careened away leaving a smoking trail, Reynolds swung about and let loose at the fighter chasing her. The fighter peeled to the side, the worst mistake it could have made as it actually increased the amount of time it was in Reynolds' sights. It did not survive long enough to learn from the mistake.

Reynolds scanned for another victim but all of the signals were racing away now. One did not quite make it as it exploded from Adams' continuing bombardment but the others disappeared in a flash. Apparently losing three quarters of their force had taken the fight out of the Colonials.

"Area secure," Reynolds said. "And Command, you can go ahead and reinstate Adams. He passed."

"Roger that Reynolds," the station commander said. "In that case, you and the 207 are to transfer forward and rendezvous with the Earth fleet operation."

Reynolds blinked. "Transfer forward? But you need all the help you can get here!"

"I appreciate the concern lieutenant, but you have your orders."

"Understood," Reynolds said with a grimace. "Alright Adams, you heard them. Let's get you properly set up for a little trip."

_Oh goody, do I get to call you Angel again?_

"I suppose you've earned that right," Grace 'Angel' Reynolds replied, trying to fight back her grin as the tension slowly unwound. "You sure you ready to be Reaper again?"

For a few moments Daven 'Reaper' Adams sent nothing back in response. When he finally did, it was Reynolds' turn to be speechless.

_You never needed to stop calling me that, you gave me the callsign after all._

End of Prologue

_What Measure Honor_ is actually a finished work of mine that I did many years back. It was originally posted on the SSZ user forum, but since that site's basically neigh unusable at this point, I decided to post it on here instead. Honor, and its companion piece _What Price Victory_ were actually the first stories that I wrote after a long hiatus of not writing anything, and indeed mark when my creative juices started flowing again. As such while it certainly feels closer to my more recent works, in a lot of ways it will also feel a lot rougher. For the most part I've decided to let the original stand instead of trying to significantly rework it, beyond any grammar or spelling mistakes that I happen to catch. Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy. I'll be posting something like one chapter a week, don't want to dump too much out there at once.


	2. Chapter 1

Briefing on UNE Fleet Organization

When the United Nations of Earth first began its colonization effort, it found it needed a naval force large enough and powerful enough to protect the new worlds. As such, the UNE Navy was founded and grew in step with the increasing number of colonies. The UNE Navy's role of protection soon shifted to one of occupation but its need for more and more ships did not change. By the time the colonies were in open revolt, the UNE Navy had six numbered fleets.

First Fleet is charged with the defense of the Sol System and its commanding officer has traditionally held the rank of Fleet Admiral. It is the largest of the numbered fleets mostly because the UNE's civilian leadership is deathly afraid of the ramifications of a successful attack on Earth, both militarily and politically. For much of the early part of the war, an assignment to First Fleet was considered the easy way of rising through the ranks by accruing seniority without actually risking one's life against the Colonial Independence Navy. This changed after First Fleet's commanding officer was court martialed for gross incompetence and the UNE began rotating units in and out of First Fleet on a regular basis.

Second Fleet has traditionally been the primary offensive fleet. Many of the early attempts to militarily reconquer the colonies have been carried out by it with varying degrees of success. While Second Fleet has managed to take systems from time to time, the UNE has been singularly unsuccessful in actually holding them. Second Fleet has also suffered the highest casualty rates of any of the fleets, if only because it is constantly reinforced and sent back out to fight. The only other fleet that suffered anywhere near as many casualties is Fifth Fleet.

Third Fleet was charged with the defense of the Taranto Naval Shipyards. Originally a powerful formation, its strength was sapped by continuous raids on its supply line and a concentrated campaign of harassment and ambushes that slowly whittled down its numbers. When the CIN finally attacked Taranto in force, Third Fleet had already lost nearly half of its standing strength and was completely destroyed.

Fourth Fleet is a roving defensive command currently focused on finding and defeating the Black Fleet. It has already suffered a string of defeats at the hands of Admiral Suvorov and some members of the fleet are considered almost obsessive in their determination to hunt down the Black Fleet. So far it has had little success and many have begun questioning why an entire fleet has been diverted to deal with what amounts to from the UNE Navy's perspective little more than a taskforce of capital ships.

Fifth Fleet is another defensive fleet, originally charged with the defense of Foldpoint 1183. Fifth Fleet was effectively destroyed when Admiral Suvorov captured the foldpoint but the UNE rebuilt it basically from scratch. Since then Fifth Fleet has generally operated in a dispersed fashion, dealing with fires that crop up along the borders of Colonial and UNE space. The last major engagement that saw the fleet concentrated in strength was at the Targon Nebula, where it again suffered heavy casualties but succeeded in repelling a major CIN offensive.

Sixth Fleet is not an operational fleet in the conventional sense. It doubles as both a reserve and a training fleet. Sixth Fleet provides UNE cadets with practical experience before their graduation and also serves as a place for new ships to work up. This means beyond a very small cadre of capital ships, its composition is always in flux. Sixth Fleet is however also a strategic reserve that can be used to reinforce one of the other fleets if the situation so warrants.

While the UNE has suffered some attrition since the start of the war, the success it has had making good its losses is highly worrisome. Should the UNE ever prove willing to uncover rear sectors, it could easily double the number of ships committed to offensive actions. If that were to happen, the CIN simply does not have the numbers to stop all of the incursions.

Commodore Vincent Taylor

Chief of Staff, First Fleet

Colonial Independence Navy

Chapter 1: Shattered Swords

The men and women already waiting in the briefing room came to attention as Reynolds entered with Adams right behind.

"As you were," Reynolds said as she walked up to the front of the room.

Adams stayed with her though kept to the side, waiting until Reynolds was ready for him. All of them looked over Adams though a few resisted the urge to stare at his neck. That quickly stopped as Reynolds cleared her throat.

"Alright, before we get to the nitty-gritty, I've got someone to introduce. You all probably seen his face plastered across the news enough times but in case any of you've been living in your cockpits, this is Lieutenant Daven Adams. And since he's the only one that can keep up with me in a fighter, he'll be acting as my wingman."

"Ma'am, that's only cause you cheat," a respectfully flippant voice said.

The others chuckled and Reynolds cracked a smile herself.

"If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough," she said. "Anyway, you can stop hovering behind me now Adams."

Adams nodded and took a seat with the others as Reynolds continued.

"Despite the little fiasco during Adams' re-qual, Command still wants our squadron to rendezvous with the combined fleet op. By the time we catch up with them, they'll already have reached the Sybille System."

"Still no word on what the hell the fleet is after?" another pilot asked.

Reynolds shook her head. "No, though considering the vector and how many ships got pulled in, it doesn't take a genius to guess. We're going after Taranto and we're going to end this war when we level that place."

Firm nods agreed with her statement. Taranto was the largest and most important shipyard in the hands of the Colonial Independence Movement. In fact, it was the only large-scale shipyard in colonial hands. Its size was due to the fact that it was originally an UNE shipyard, one seized by the Colonial Independence Navy in its first major offensive operation. Possession of Taranto had allowed the CIN to expand its forces and maintain its momentum, granting it a string of victories over the UNE. The tide was slowly turning however and the UNE had recovered considerably in recent years. Now they would hammer the first nail in the CIN's coffin by retaking Taranto.

"Unfortunately we won't be traveling in much comfort. Since any carrier in this sector that was already going to join the fleet already has, we'll be traveling in the rough."

Moans and grumbles answered Reynolds' announcement and she found herself in general agreement. While fighters did have the range, barely, to make such long trips, it was incredibly uncomfortable to do so. Even ignoring the septic issue, sitting on one's ass for that long was incredibly tiring and tended to dull one's senses.

"Fortunately, we'll be able to stop by a few of the outposts along the way," Reynolds said. "That should give us chances to shower and eat solid, maybe even real food, and I somehow doubt we'll be thrown into the fire the moment we reach Sybille."

Grunts of reluctant agreement sounded. Throughout all this however Adams had remained quiet and looked remarkably focused. Now he waved his hand to get Reynolds' attention.

"Yes lieutenant?"

Adams' mouth opened. Which carrier are we being assigned to once we reach Sybille.

The monotone voice was obviously synthesized and its flatness made Adams' question sound more like a statement. The other pilots all glanced at him, some doing a better job of hiding their surprise than others. For that matter, Reynolds was not amongst them as she realized her mouth was hanging open.

"Umm, according to the latest orders, we're supposed to flesh out the _Cronus_' light craft wing."

Adams nodded and leaned back, his gaze remaining on Reynolds as he waited for her to continue. Reynolds cleared her throat again, as much to hide her embarrassment as to buy time to collect her thoughts. Intellectually she had known that part of Adams' rehabilitation involved the implantation of a synthetic voice box to replace the one effectively destroyed by his injuries. He needed some way to communicate with other people if he was going to remain in the UNE after all. The unnaturalness of the voice however explained why he had bothered learning how to sign and why he so readily took advantage of the fact that Reynolds could read sign. Something told Reynolds that Adams would likely do the same to anyone else who revealed themselves to share this ability.

"We were originally going to be traveling light," Reynolds said once she composed herself. "In light of how deeply Cindy raids have penetrated, Command has decided we get to keep a full load of missiles all the way."

That announcement was met with approving gazes all around. True this meant the total mass of their fighters would be a bit higher, but in the greater scheme of things lowering the distance they could fold in a single jump by a few million kilometers was not that big a deal. On the other hand the missiles would have been sorely missed if Command had stuck with its previous orders and her squadron ran into more raiders along the way.

"Alright, the techs should have finished prepping our birds by now. Suit up and get down to the hanger. The sooner we depart, the sooner we get out of our sweat suits."

So dismissed, the pilots marched out of the briefing room towards their respective locker rooms. Despite the legal frameworks that guaranteed equality of the sexes, the military remained predominantly a male profession and so there were only two other women in Reynolds' squadron. Their lack of numbers however did not diminish the opportunities to gossip.

"So LT, what's this I hear you knew Adams from way back?"

Reynolds blinked as she momentarily stopped changing. "And where did you hear _that_?"

"Oh it's all over. From what I hear you two were fairly close while at the academy."

Shaking her head in resignation, Reynolds muttered. "Scuttlebutt's been busy I see."

"Aha, so it's true!"

"Carol, you really need to stop paying attention to every rumor you hear," Reynolds chided. "If you keep at it, you'll find yourself in a world of hurt someday."

"No need to get defensive LT," Senior Flight Officer Caroline McBride said with a grin. "All of us knew you were evaluating Adams to try to fill the last slot. We're just wondering if he's as good as the media kept proclaiming after he got the medal."

"He is good," Reynolds said as she pulled her hair back into a tail. "I wasn't lying when I said Adams could actually keep up with me. We were partners for a lot of exercises as cadets and no other training pair ever managed to win a duel against us."

"Would you say that owed more to Adams or yourself ma'am?" Flight Officer First Class Naomi Saito asked.

Reynolds gave Saito a cool gaze but her face quickly cracked into a chuckle. Saito was one of the pilots that alternated as Reynolds' wingman previously, marking her as one of the better pilots in the squadron. At the same time the young woman had a mischievous mind masked by a seemingly polite façade. Twice now Reynolds had seen Saito ruthlessly cut someone down to size without once raising her voice or using anything but the most polite of language. Saito generally did not ever try this on superior officers, not without first worming into their good graces at least.

"To be honest, I doubt either of us would have scored that well with anyone else," Reynolds finally said. "Adams tends to run really stupid risks and relies on his wingman to cover his ass. There was one time he actually let a missile hit his fighter just so he wouldn't have to cut down on his acceleration when chasing an opponent. If I hadn't been there, he would have gotten his ass blown off in the exercise."

McBride frowned. "Is he overly reckless ma'am?"

Reynolds shook her head. "No, not reckless. More like very focused. He has really good instincts and he seems to know when insane opportunities crop up. The tricky part for anyone flying with him is to sense when he's about to take some crazy risk and provide the cover that he needs to get back out in one piece."

"And that's why you're assigning him as your wingman?" McBride ventured.

Reynolds nodded, zipping up the flight suit. "The squadron already has a few screwballs so there was no harm in adding another. Besides, scuttlebutt's also said a few things about your own preferences."

"Now that's a tad unfair ma'am," McBride said, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly before she broke out laughing. "There's no way I'd be able to snag Adams, even ignoring the fact that he ranks me."

The UNE had long ago stopped trying to restrict fraternization within the ranks. Having people in confined quarters on long deployments made such efforts ultimately pointless. The only exception to this leniency however was when the involved parties were directly in each other's chain of command, meaning McBride was quite right about the impropriety of trying to go after Adams. For some reason Reynolds felt a bit of relief at her subordinate so readily declaring preemptive defeat. That relief turned quickly into confusion before ending up as irritation. Shaking herself, Reynolds grabbed her helmet.

"Alright ladies, let's get moving."

The two followed Reynolds out the lockers and proceeded to the hangers. To Reynolds' considerable surprise, every male pilot in her squadron was present and already waiting for them. All of them were also grinning way too much.

"I see you gentlemen were quite fleet of foot today," Reynolds said.

"Well LT, it's just that Adams here introduced us to a new tradition."

Reynolds' eyes narrowed as something tugged at her memory. "Oh? And what would this tradition be?"

"Well, according to the lieutenant, back at the academy, your training squad would always race to see how fast each of you could get into gear and whoever was last had to buy a round for the others the next time the squad went out. We all thought it was an excellent way to, motivate us to be more efficient gearing up and so decided the tradition should be continued."

Reynolds was now regarding Adams very coolly but she could not quite keep the laughter out of her eyes. "I see. And you gentlemen do understand that no one bothered to inform us of this new tradition, correct?"

"Of course LT! That's why this time we'll let all of you off. This was just a practice run."

"I see," Reynolds said, thinking back on how many times _she_ had been last as a cadet. "Well, I suppose the tradition does serve _some_ practical purpose. However, all traditions can stand some improvement. As such, I would suggest that we add an additional condition."

The men were no longer looking quite as smug.

"Uh, and what would that be, LT?"

"Well seeing as how I'm supposed to be setting a proper example for all of you, it should stand to reason that I should be able to get ready far quicker. As such, it will not simply be the last person arriving that needs to buy the squad a round, but anyone who arrives after me. I think it only fair that I aspire to set the standard after all."

Reynolds' smile was beatific while looks of wary respect spread across the men facing her. Adams however continued grinning and Reynolds could not help but shake her head. It appeared his humor truly was still intact. Adding him to the squadron might well be more interesting than she had originally envisioned. Yet somehow, Reynolds had no problem with that.

* * *

There was no air flow in space to cause turbulence yet that word perfectly described what Reynolds felt her fighter was buffeted as her squadron folded back into realspace. The micro-asteroids that pelted her ship made it shudder and shake but her shields absorbed most of the kinetic energy without any actual drain. It took a few moments for everyone to regain control over their respective craft and when they did they finally caught sight of the massive debris field before them.

Rocks and shards, some glowing from residual heat, littered the space about them. Further ahead was the planet itself, or what was left of it after half its mass was blasted away. This far out there were few asteroids large enough to seriously threaten their ships but it quickly became clear momentum was carrying larger chunks out at lethal velocities. As her squadron weaved around the outflowing debris, Reynolds brought up her active scanners to try to sort through the carnage.

"What the hell happened here? Where's the fleet?"

The answer to that question flowed across Reynolds' HUD and she felt her blood chill. Not only were her sensors picking up planetary debris, they were turning up fragments of alloys and composites that could only be from destroyed ships. Even worse, her computer was indicating a very high confidence level that they came from destroyed UNE ships.

"We lost the battle," Reynolds said. "Maybe even the war."

"But what could have caused this?"

"I don't know," Reynolds replied, "but we better damn well find out. All ships, recon pairs and spread out."

The squadron broke up into twos, one ship with active sensors and the other close enough to keep an eye on its charge but otherwise trying to remain discrete. As Reynolds continued sorting through the sensor readings even as she guided her fighter through the wreckage and debris, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"This can't be happening," Reynolds muttered.

The combined fleet that was supposed to advance on Taranto had more than a hundred capital ships. At best the Colonials might have managed to muster a fleet half the size to defend the shipyards, if they were willing to uncover every other critical station and pull any ships they might have had on offensive campaigns. While they might have managed to achieve numerical parity or even supremacy if their corvettes were counted, that still would not have been enough to defeat the combined UNE fleet in an open battle. Then there was the fact that the planet before them had been ripped to pieces. Based on the latest astronavigation charts Reynolds received at the last station the squadron stopped at, that planet was supposed to be cold, inhospitable, and intact.

Reality however did not care what the charts said about how things were supposed to be and Reynolds' sensors were doing a very good job conveying that point to her. All she saw was further confirmation that most of the rocky debris shared a similar composition and were therefore likely originally part of a larger whole, a whole that was significantly reduced in mass based on purely visual examination, and that the artificial wreckage almost certainly came from destroyed UNE ships.

The sinking feeling was starting to turn into something else entirely but Reynolds kept a firm lock on it. She could not allow herself to panic. She was the commanding officer on the spot and the rest of her squadron relied on her to get them through whatever the hell was going on.

The HUD beeped and a message scrolled across.

_You okay?_

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Reynolds said hurriedly and completely unconvincingly.

_Veering to the left._

Looking ahead Reynolds saw that Adams was right, she had started veering a bit left of her plotted course.

"Acknowledged," Reynolds said. "Just, trying to make sense of everything I'm seeing."

Adams answered with a single click and let Reynolds to her thoughts once more. Having been woken however Reynolds did not let her attention wander trying to come up with explanations of what had happened. What mattered now was the present, and if there were any UNE ships left that _could_ tell them what had happened.

The HUD beeped again and this time it was not a gentle prod from Adams. The beep grew into an alarm and the two pilots instinctively went evasive not a moment too soon. Fire from Colonial fighters streaked along their previous vector and Reynolds immediately tagged their attackers. Adams rolled his own fighter about, letting loose a stream of plasma against the incoming enemy. One ship's shields glowed red before burning out and the fighter blossomed a fiery red seconds later as the rest of Adams' salvo smashed into it.

Reynolds took a more forceful approach as her machineguns chewed through the enemy shield before she unleashed a missile at near point blank. So close in, the enemy pilot had no time to react before the missile struck his ship and blew it to pieces. The surviving fighters tried to maneuver around Reynolds and her wingman but could not get between the two. The moment an enemy managed to get behind one of them, the other would pounce and easily cut apart the supposed hunter. The Colonial pilots might have eventually figured out a way to break the pair formation but none lived long enough for that.

"That looks like all of them," Reynolds said. "Wait, sensors are picking up something else."

A bit further head, the scanners were picking up something a bit more active than the residual heat from the rocks. In fact, they matched the very same pattern that had just tried to kill Reynolds and her wingman.

"All fighters back on me," Reynolds ordered. "Reaper, let's haul ass. Someone else out there is shooting at something."

Adams clicked an acknowledgment and was right beside Reynolds as she gunned the thrusters. The two were quickly joined by other pairs and by the time their target came into sight half the squadron was assembled. There before them was a UNE frigate and a swarm of colonial fighters peppering it with plasma.

"IFF confirmed, it's the _Mercury_," Reynolds said. "_Mercury_, this is flight team leader Reynolds. What's your status?"

"Our fold drive is offline and our weapons are down," the response came. "We need more time to get them back up!"

"Acknowledged _Mercury_, we'll try to do something about those gnats. All fighters, weapons free!"

The UNE fighters charged forth and smashed through the colonial ranks. Reynolds found herself and Adams focused on the same target and their combined attention chewed through the enemy so quickly neither could be sure who fired the killing shot. Veering aside, Reynolds found a new victim and unleashed a flurry of machinegun rounds. The Colonial fighter jerked back outside of her field of fire but exploded moments later, having strayed right into a stream of plasma from her wingman. The rest of the squadron was equally efficient and every Colonial fighter that folded in simply became one more turkey to the slaughter. As weapons fire lit up from the frigate, it became more accurate to call them fish in a very small barrel.

"The _Mercury_ is now fully operational," the captain announced.

Colonial fighters that had been trying to pull tight turns around the formerly derelict frigate now found themselves under a shower of plasma and flak. They did not last long and those lucky enough to escape the initial carnage were quickly pounced by Reynolds' squadron. The Colonials did not go down without a fight however as a single corvette suddenly folded in. It immediately unleashed a pair of torpedoes before swerving around to make a second run.

"Protect the _Mercury_," Reynolds ordered. "Do not let any torpedoes through!"

Even as the frigate turned to bring more point defenses to bear, a lone fighter charged with guns blazing. The skin of the torpedoes was pelted with rounds before they detonated in a fiery blast from which Adams' fighter burst forth. Dodging and weaving to avoid the corvette's fire, Adams let loose missile after missile even as he pounded the enemy ship with his plasma cannon. The first pair blew apart the rear turrets harrowing Adams while the others directly impacted on the hull. As Reynolds raced forth to support her wingman, she saw armor splinter and snap as the corvette succumbed to Adams' bombardment. A final missile broke through the armor and triggered containment failure in the corvette's reactor and the runaway reaction consumed the ship in a bright inferno.

"Area secure," Reynolds declared as the last of the Colonial ships either made a run for it or died trying. "Sir, what happened here?"

"Where to start? We'd gathered the fleet to meet the Colonials and win the war. But then they brought along a new toy and somehow disabled all of our systems. It was a slaughter. They stayed just long enough to test their new toy. Reynolds, they're headed to Earth."

Images of the same destruction being wrought upon Earth flashed through Reynolds' head. That even the Colonials could be capable of such an atrocity was unthinkable. But the carnage before them was proof that they really might do it, that they really might kill billions of innocent civilians.

"What do we do now sir?" Reynolds asked.

"Those fighters came from somewhere close. Reynolds, take your wingman and follow their folds back to see what they're up to."

"Understood sir." Reynolds switched over to the squadron frequency. "Alright, we have our marching orders. Reaper, we're going to see where those Cindies came from."

The pair of fighters peeled away from the frigate and flew to a sector mostly clear of debris before folding. With all the crap floating about it was almost unavoidable that they would fly into something while emerging on the other side but there was no reason they had to also fly into something folding out. As they reappeared, Reynolds' sensors picked up additional signatures ever so briefly before they blinked out.

"_Mercury_, we just spotted a few tin cans with escorts."

"Acknowledged. Follow them but do not engage."

"Understood. Alright, let's see where these Cindies are in such a hurry to go."

Despite the fact that the Colonials had to have detected her squadron, they did not move to engage. Instead after a few minutes spent clearing the asteroid field, all of the ships folded out. Locking onto the fold signature, Reynolds' computer worked out the approximate destination and fed it to the rest of the squadron. Once away from the larger rocks themselves, the fighters folded and emerged to see another UNE ship in trouble.

"_Mercury_, this is Reynolds, the Cindies are going after a carrier. I think it's the _Arcadia_."

"Acknowledged. Do what you can to hold them off, we're on our way."

"Alright Reaper, cover the carrier! Captain McCallum, this is Reynolds, hold on, cavalry's on the way."

For a second no answer came and Reynolds wondered if the _Arcadia's_ captain was even still alive.

"Think even you might have trouble with this one Reynolds," a steady but clearly strained voice responded, definitively answering that point.

"Don't worry sir," Reynolds said. "We've got the _Mercury_ incoming. We just need to hold out until then."

To Reynolds' immense relief moments later the rest of her squadron folded in. Her unit at full strength, they charged forth into the carnage. As a carrier _Arcadia_ was simply too big for the colonial fighters to pick apart no matter how defenseless it was. That however was not their goal as they ducked and weaved, taking potshots at _Arcadia's_ point defense turrets and keeping them occupied while the shoal of corvettes unleashed their deadly payloads.

"Focus on the corvettes," Reynolds ordered. "Don't let any of their torpedoes get through!"

Her wingman's response was to charge forth guns blazing. The first wave of torpedoes ignited as bullets smashed into them and Adams was then free to focus on the corvettes. Reynolds was right behind, doing her best to discourage anyone from taking advantage of Adams' reckless. Just as another fighter veered away from Adams' vector, a flat and hollow voice came over the radio.

Pincer top down, going top.

Despite the unnaturalness that still shook her Reynolds immediately understood what Adams was saying. She dipped her fighter down before pulling up to approach a corvette from its belly. Far above she could see the icon that represented Adams diving towards the same target. The corvette's rear turret swerved downward to meet Reynolds while bolts of plasma rose up to meet Adams. With its defenses divided, Reynolds had no problem rolling ahead of the weapons tracking and yet still maintain line of sight to achieve a lock. The missile blew off the flak turret, leaving the corvette's underside completely exposed as Reynolds peppered its hull with plasma. The corvette rolled, trying to reduce the surface area presented to its attackers but the effort bought it little protection as Reynolds locked on another missile.

Another explosion close to the corvette's head signaled the loss of its plasma turret but the ship was not yet completely defenseless. A single missile shot forth and was almost upon Adams before Reynolds even realized her wingman was the target. Her fear barely had time to spike before an EM burst erupted from Adams' ship and Reynolds' own datalink to his fighter was disrupted. Upon restoration however it became evident Adams had gotten the pulse off just in time as no damage was being reported by his systems.

Setting aside her relief, Reynolds opened fire and watched in satisfaction as the corvette's hull cracked. Its engines were offline and atmosphere was venting from numerous breaches. The corvette was an obvious mission kill and Reynolds swung around to deal with the remaining threats.

The surviving three corvettes had just launched another salvo of torpedoes but the rest of the squadron easily closed down the attack. They were also getting a handle on the waves of Colonial fighters, leaving Reynolds and Adams free to deal with the corvettes.

Going bottom.

With his intention declared, Adams accelerated towards their next target and Reynolds was mere moments behind in following. They repeated the pincer and the corvette's weapons were wrecked after the first pass. The second saw the two systematically dismantle the ship under a flurry of plasma.

"Reaper, the tin cans are bunching up," Reynolds said as they moved onto their next victim.

The two surviving corvettes were now flying as a pair, one upside down relative to the other so both sides would be covered equally by their weapons. With no easy way to approach, they were liable to be cut to pieces before they could get close enough to inflict any damage.

Lateral approach with missiles.

The suggestion made sense, but a corvette was still sturdy enough to require concentrated fire from a light craft to kill.

"How many you got?" Reynolds asked.

Twelve.

With Reynolds' fifteen they probably had enough to kill their current targets. There was however the risk that something nastier would be showing up.

"Alright, save your ammo," Reynolds ordered. "I'll take the lateral approach. You watch my back and try to deal with those turrets."

The moment Adams clicked in response Reynolds began her run and maneuvered her fighter to approach the enemy using one of them as a shield against the other. The corvettes began to shift formation to counter her attempt but the further one found itself under attack. So preoccupied, it could not offer any support to its partner as Reynolds let off missile after missile as quickly as she could acquire locks. The corvette rolled to angle more weapons at Reynolds but she hit the thrusters and kept pace. Even as explosions tore apart the corvette, it continued to spew fire defiantly until it was finally consumed by the overloading reactor.

With her target dead, Reynolds moved to join Adams only to find her wingman's opponent was also in its death throes. Somehow Adams had managed to so thoroughly shoot up the corvette the only thing that seemed to work was a lone plasma turret. A single missile from Reynolds silenced it and the follow up burst of plasma from both of them sealed the corvette's fate. Before Reynolds could celebrate however an alarm went off loudly and insistently.

"Oh hell, what now," Reynolds muttered as she recognized the tone.

Her ship's sensors were detecting an incoming fold event and a large one at that. Reynolds was not disappointed as suddenly a Colonial frigate burst out in a stream of blue light.

"Cindy cap ship!" Reynolds shouted over the radio.

Mere moments later another flash erupted and the _Mercury_ emerged. Both frigates unleashed a salvo of torpedoes but the Colonials were still dead set on sinking the _Arcadia_.

"Reynolds, focus on the frigate's point defenses," McCallum ordered. "We can deal with the torpedoes."

"Yes sir," Reynolds acknowledged. "Alright, fighters, take out those flak turrets. We need to clear the way for _Mercury's_ torpedoes."

Several members of her squadron peeled away from the _Arcadia_ while others still hovered about protectively. The Colonial frigate was not making things any easier however as it filled the space around it with flak and plasma. Reynolds circled around it but could not find an opening to make an attack run without getting her fighter blown apart. The rest of her squadron seemed to be having the same conundrum, at least initially. As _Mercury's_ first torpedo salvo neared its intended target, the Colonial frigate's turrets shifted focus to deal with the more immediate threat. The moment a vector of approach opened, Adams' fighter veered in. Bolts of plasma shot forth from his ship, accompanied by a rapid series of missiles. The port forward turret on the frigate exploded and the fire from the warship lessened ever so slightly. The rear turrets immediately swerved to deal with this impudent attacker, exactly what Reynolds was waiting for.

Even as the flak turrets poured fire upon Adams' fighter, Reynolds' own ship was coming in hard and fast. She smothered one turret with plasma while let off a missile for another. Somehow one of her targets survived sufficiently intact to turn back to face her but its extension to life turned out to be very brief. With three point defense turrets down, the frigate was now in dire straits as _Mercury's_ second salvo arrived. The Colonial frigate's sole surviving forward turret managed a near miracle as it picked off three of the torpedoes but even its heroic effort was not enough. A single torpedo broke through and smashed into the forward hammerhead, ripping open the hull. Somehow its own torpedo tubes survived intact and the Colonial frigate responded with four of its own. Their intended victim however was far better covered and Reynolds did not even pay them any mind as she proceeded to blow off the frigate's missile turret just as Adams finished off the starboard forward plasma batteries.

With its defenses crippled, the frigate dipped downward and opened fire on the _Mercury_ with its heavy plasma cannon. The UNE frigate was however far away enough that the bolts of plasma was already dissipating by the time they reached their target and the _Mercury's_ armor shrugged off the scattered charges. That did not mean these attempts went unanswered however as _Mercury_ replied in kind. The Colonial frigate's hull was in nowhere as good shape and even the dissipating plasma bolts managed to cause its armor to buckle. That would have been bad enough by itself but _Mercury's_ third torpedo salvo was right behind and proceeded to pummel the Colonial frigate.

Unable to withstand much more punishment, the Colonial warship began turning away and presented its surviving weapons to the UNE forces to try to discourage pursuit. The half dozen fighters that proceeded to swarm it were indicative of its failure but none of the light craft packed the punch needed to deliver the killing blow. Even as the frigate lost the last of its point defenses, its core hull held long enough for it to disappear in a flash of light.

_Bloody coward._

The text scrolled across Reynolds' HUD a few moments after the enemy frigate's escape and the lieutenant found she shared Adams' frustration. After everything that the Colonials had apparently done to the fleet, she wanted as much payback as possible.

"There's always next time," Reynolds said. "They won't be so lucky then."

And there would be a next time, Reynolds knew. If Captain Caro was right and the Colonials really were headed to Earth, then they needed to go after and try to stop them. Every member of the UNE Navy had sworn an oath to protect Earth and its people. They would fulfill that oath or die trying.

End of Chapter 1

When I started Honor, I wanted to reuse the overall theme of Adams being silent but do it in a creative manner. I ultimately settled on him having effectively lost his vocal chords due to injuries suffered in the line of duty. It was ultimately an experiment to see if I could convey a character's dialogue while having him basically not speak. By having Reynolds be the actual perspective character and thus provide readers with her thoughts and interpretations of Adams' hand signs, I think I succeeded.

In many ways Honor and Victory also helped establish the pattern where my main perspective characters happen to be strong and willful women. Since these two were the start of that pattern, there are a lot of rough edges still in their portrayal. The degree of subtlety that I've pulled off in later stories is nowhere as smooth here, and overall there are lots of things that could have been done better, and I arguably have gotten much better over time.


	3. Chapter 2

Briefing on the United Nations of Earth

The United Nations of Earth is the successor of the old United Nations organization. It possesses a General Assembly and a Security Council much like its predecessor, but the composition of both bodies is somewhat different reflecting the fact that the UNE is an actual government whereas the UN was little more than a forum of often ineffectual discussion.

The General Assembly is the legislative body of the UNE with delegates being directly elected by residents of their respective districts. Each delegate serves for a period of six years and elections are held on a rotating basis with a third of the Assembly seats up for election every two years.

The Security Council is composed of ten members, four elected by the GA and six appointed by the regional governments. Members who hold key portfolios are almost always one of the appointed members while the secretary general him or herself tends to be one of the GA elected members. The most prominent portfolios are defense, economics, justice, and education. The colonial affairs portfolio was the fifth of these but since the start of the rebellions and the defection of the previous holder of the portfolio colonial matters have been increasingly subordinated to defense.

From the perspective of the Colonial Independence Movement, the attitudes of the secretary general and the secretary of defense have tended to be the most relevant when gauging the mood and intentions of the UNE. The current secretary general, Fernando González Pineda, is generally considered a patriot of Earth but a political moderate. He inherited a nation at war and has continued pursuing an outright military victory instead of a diplomatic solution.

Secretary of Defense Xia Jiang was appointed by Secretary General Pineda when he first assumed office to replace her predecessor, whom public opinion had begun to regard as inept and unable to properly prosecute the war against the colonies. One of the first acts of Secretary Jiang was to initiate a thorough house cleaning of the UNE military's upper ranks, forcing out officers regarded as either incompetent or too passive. Secretary Jiang has adopted a policy of continually forcing confrontations with CIN fleet elements but the majority of these have involved frigates. The core of the UNE's battle fleets have been held in reserve whenever possible and not because of any timidity on the secretary's part. All indications are this is part of a buildup in preparation for a major campaign against the colonies. Considering the strong support Secretary General Pineda has provided Secretary Jiang, it would appear that the UNE is truly not interested in resolving the current conflict peacefully and wishes to re-impose the economic and political restrictions that caused the rebellions in the first place.

Fleet Admiral Evangeline Kosygin

Commander in Chief

Colonial Independence Navy

Chapter 2: In Blood Drawn

As Reynolds climbed out of her fighter she and her squadron was met with cheers by the men and women of the _Arcadia's_ flight crew. Reynolds waved as there was little else she could do.

"Ma'am," a tech greeted her with a salute as he approached. He had a few bandages on his face but otherwise looked steady on his feet. "Master Chief Petty Officer Harkens. The captain requests that you meet him on the bridge immediately."

Looking about, Reynolds saw dozens of men and women with hastily applied bandages. It was obvious _Arcadia_ had taken a beating before Reynolds and her squadron arrived to drive off the Colonials. The way Harkens had approached her was also indicative of the holes in the command chain the casualties had blown.

"Thank you Master Chief," Reynolds said and glanced over at her pilots as they too disembarked.

The master chief chuckled. "Don't worry ma'am, we'll get them washed, fed, and tucked into bed for ya. We owe you that much."

Reynolds allowed herself a smile and nodded. "That would be very helpful, Master Chief."

Handing the man her helmet, Reynolds exited the hanger still in her flight suit. When a ship's captain, especially the captain of the carrier she and her squadron would likely be calling home said he wanted to see her immediately, that meant immediately.

Most of the other men and women Reynolds passed on her way were still in suits with entire sections of the ship still decompressed. The hiss of atmosphere could be heard throughout as that changed and by the time Reynolds arrived at the bridge the crew had removed their helmets. Reynolds walked over to the chair at the center and came to attention.

"Lieutenant Reynolds, reporting as ordered sir."

"Damn good to see you Reynolds," McCallum said as he slumped back into the chair. "I guess you really can beat any odds."

Reynolds nodded, waiting for McCallum to get to the point.

McCallum sighed. "I don't think I need to tell you how bad things are. I've lost basically all of my fighters and most of my interceptors and I was about to try sending out bombers before you showed up."

Reynolds winced. A carrier's usual complement included two squadrons of fighters, one of interceptors, and one of bombers. McCallum had lost two thirds of his light craft and effectively that many of his pilots. To have that many people under his command die would weigh heavily on an officer like him, just as it would have for Reynolds.

"To be blunt, we're short on ships and manpower. I'm contacting rear units and those that weren't pulled into the combined fleet to try to get reinforcements, but things aren't looking good."

"Reinforcements sir?" Reynolds said. "Does that mean you have a plan?"

"I at least have an idea," McCallum said. "Whether it works or not will require every man, woman, and ship I can pull together, not to mention a fair bit of luck."

Reynolds nodded. She had no doubt the odds were as bad, if not worse, than what McCallum suggested. At the same time they could not simply give up.

"What do you need me to do sir?" she said.

"I need you to act as my wing commander, Lieutenant Commander Reynolds."

Reynolds blinked a few moments before finally blurting out her surprise. "Sir!?"

As a captain McCallum was perfectly within his rights to grant a brevet promotion such as this. She was also only being bumped up a single grade and combined with her time as a senior grade lieutenant the promotion was not out of place. Command of an entire carrier's wing that came with the promotion however was something else entirely.

"You're the best pilot I have right now," McCallum said. "You also saved the lives of everyone on this ship so you already have their gratitude if not respect. That you did it without losing any of your own squadron doesn't hurt either. Now I need you to turn that gratitude into belief, belief that we can win. That's something we're going to need as badly as actual reinforcements if we're to stand a chance."

Reynolds opened her mouth to say she would try her best, but something in McCallum's eyes gave her pause and a few more seconds passed before she responded.

"Leave it to me sir," Reynolds said instead. "I'll make sure the wing pulls through."

McCallum nodded and even cracked a smile. "That's what I wanted to hear, Reynolds. I'll leave the personnel details to you, promote whomever you need to fill in the holes, just get me my wing flying again. Dismissed."

"Aye sir," Reynolds said with a sharp salute before leaving the bridge.

Once outside, the sudden loss of tension made Reynolds want to collapse. She kept herself steady though as she headed back to the hanger. The captain had placed a lot of trust in her, just as she was trusting McCallum actually had a plan to deal with the Colonials that would not see all of them killed for nothing. That mutual trust meant both needed to do their damned best to fulfill it and Reynolds had no intention of coming up short.

The hanger was still a flurry of activity when she arrived but the master chief immediately caught sight of her and came over.

"Ma'am," he greeted. "We've got your boys and girls stashed away."

Here was another man whose efforts would be crucial to Reynolds upholding that trust. If Reynolds' impression was correct and Harkens was the senior noncom if not the outright highest ranking crewman of the hanger, the master chief would be the link between the people that maintained and armed the light craft and the person that commanded those who piloted them. It was his job to make sure the people who left in those light craft had every chance of making it back in one piece.

"Thank you Master Chief," Reynolds said.

"Would you like to join them ma'am?"

"In a bit," Reynolds said. "For now however we need to get to work. Captain McCallum has appointed me as wing commander for the _Arcadia_ and I'll need your help to make sure things go smoothly."

Harkens' eyes widened but he immediately snapped to attention. "Whatever the Commander needs ma'am."

"I want a rundown of the remaining ships and material we have," Reynolds said. "I'll also want you to attend the planning meeting I want to hold half an hour from now. Please inform the other squadron leaders that I want a general idea of their readiness at that meeting."

"Yes ma'am."

"And for the last thing, where are the lockers? I really need to get out of this damn suit."

Harkens grinned and waved over another noncom. "He'll show you the way ma'am, and I'll see about your other needs."

"Thank you Chief."

The next half hour passed far too quickly as far as Reynolds was concerned and she was still chugging down a ration pack as she walked to the conference room. She probably should not have spent nearly as long in the fresher but she really needed it. Adams was as busy wolfing down his own pack and he had two more stuffed in his pockets. The strain of flying light craft could burn a lot of calories, enough to make even standard rations seem palatable.

The other officers were already present and waited politely as Reynolds walked to the head of the table. Standing next to the master chief was another man and woman. Reynolds quickly identified which ships they were responsible for and grimaced. With the losses suffered by the wing, her options for force projection were severely constrained.

"Ma'am," Harkens said. As the only person who had actually formally met her, it appeared he would be taking the lead. "Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Tobias Kern and Lieutenant Gabriella Dubois."

Reynolds nodded to the bomber and interceptor pilot respectively.

"Thank you Chief. I'll assume the Chief has already told you who I am, so I suppose that just leaves me to introduce my people. This is my second, Lieutenant Abdullah Khaldi, and my wingman, Lieutenant Daven Adams."

The two men nodded, since they were actually equivalent in rank to the other squadron leaders. Khaldi would probably have been given his own squadron in a few more months before the recent turn of events.

"Now Chief, if you would?"

"Yes ma'am," Harkens said. "Basically, _Arcadia's_ wing is down to half an interceptor squadron, a bomber squadron, and your own fighter squadron. We actually have enough munitions to last quite a bit, but we're not looking so hot in terms of spare parts. I've only got one extra fighter, two interceptors, and two bombers in storage. The ship took a hit in one of the main cargo holds and we lost basically everything in there. If we end up having to write off anything from battle damage, we won't be able to replace it."

"The captain said he's trying to pull in reinforcements from other outposts," said Reynolds. "I'll make sure he also tries to grab any parts as well."

"That'd be mighty helpful ma'am," Harkens said.

"Now, what's the status on the rest of my squadrons?" Reynolds asked.

The two lieutenants exchanged looks before Dubois shrugged.

"The bomber squadron is currently intact ma'am, but my own squadron is down to half strength. We'd shot ourselves dry before docking to rearm, but _Arcadia _got jumped before the captain could redeploy us."

Reynolds nodded. When ships landed or launched there was a window of vulnerability that an enemy could exploit and a carrier's own defenses were not perfect. As such, carriers generally stood far outside an actual engagement to act as a supply depot for light craft. If a carrier was unlucky enough to get caught with its light craft still embarked, her captain ultimately had to choose between risking major damage to the ship by launching regardless or trying to fight it out until the ship reached a position where it could launch relatively unmolested. _Arcadia_ had been trying, and failing, to do just that when Reynolds and her squadron found the carrier.

"Alright, have I been tied into the command channels?" Reynolds asked Harkens.

"Yes ma'am," the master chief replied.

Reynolds tapped a few commands into the console and brought up the messages the captain had dispatched. Some were brief status reports back to Earth about the disaster that befell the fleet but those would need to wait. Other messages were more immediately pertinent.

"The captain's requesting squadrons of fighters and interceptors from Sixth Fleet to replenish the wing," Reynolds said as she read through the message, "along with more capital ships to serve as escorts for the _Arcadia_. Assuming we do get reinforced, we're going to have effectively no time to stop and actually work up the new units before throwing them into the fire."

"We do have simulators ma'am," Harkens said. "We could run the new arrivals through them with the rest of the wing on our way to whatever targets the skipper picks."

"Simulators are hardly adequate for something like that," Dubois said. "And our pilots are going to need at least some downtime between missions to rest, otherwise they'll be too worn out to fly when the time comes."

Reynolds raised an eyebrow. "Regardless of how 'adequate' you may feel the solution to be lieutenant, it's the best option we have right now. We need to get the wing in proper shape if we're to stand any chance. The tables have turned and it's the Colonials that outnumber us now, meaning we need to be just that much better than them. If I have to drill the wing until every pilot is ready to drop to get there, then I sure as hell will."

Dubois flushed slightly but made no further comments so Reynolds let the issue drop as she turned back to Harkens.

"How many simulators do we have?"

"Enough for two full squadrons," the master chief answered.

"Alright, according to the flight plan, we're twelve hours out from our intended destination. Once I get the mission parameters, I want sims set up no later than two hours from now. We'll run through them with my squadron and the interceptor squadron first and assuming nothing goes horrifically wrong stand them down to rest for the rest of the jump. Lieutenant Kern, I want you to start putting together sims for your own squadron in the meantime. We'll record my squadron's performance and use those to mock up digital versions for your use when my boys and girls are down. Once Dubois and my squadron are done with the simulators, I want your pilots to run through them."

The bomber commander nodded in acknowledgment.

"Adams, go with Harkens and give him any help he might need getting our ships ready. Khaldi, work with Dubois to work out basic formations while I get more details about our target from the captain, then we'll hash out the final sim parameters."

The others nodded as well and Reynolds waited a brief moment before turning and marching out of the conference room. She pinged the captain and was pleasantly surprised to see an immediate response inviting her to come up to the bridge. If nothing else, McCallum seemed on top of his responsibilities.

The captain was standing before the plot when Reynolds entered and spared a single glance as she stopped beside him.

"I hear you've hit the ground running," McCallum said.

"Just doing my job sir."

McCallum chuckled dryly. "Well, I have another one for you. We're on our way to the Thule research outpost to pick up an, important package. The Cindies probably know we're headed that way and I wouldn't be surprised if they sent a few ships to try to take the place before us. I'll need your squadron to move in first and secure the area before I bring in the _Arcadia_ and _Mercury_."

Reynolds nodded, but McCallum was not done yet.

"Taking into account the possibility of resistance, I'll be sending in a shuttle of marines to take control of the station. You'll need to make sure they get to the station and then protect them once they are extracted."

"Yes sir."

"The only real question is how heavy of a resistance the Cindies may put up."

"Are you thinking they might deploy additional capital ships sir?" Reynolds asked.

"That's always the possibility. They've certainly got the ships to spare now that they managed to wipe out so much of the fleet. I don't think they'll send too many however and the _Mercury_ should be enough of an escort that we'll be able to weather whatever they throw at us."

"Should we deploy the bombers anyway?"

McCallum fell silent for a few moments as he considered the suggestion before shaking his head. "No, if we really end up facing a threat bad enough to need bombers, I'd rather run than fight. In that case, we'd need to make a quick exit and the bombers would have a hell of a time fighting their way out."

Reynolds nodded in agreement. Her own fighters and the interceptors could at least make a run for it but the bombers were simply too slow and unwieldy. They would need support to escape pursing light craft, which would require the rest of the wing to hang back to protect them and thus slow down the entire withdrawal.

"In that case sir, I've got a list of supplies and equipment the wing could really use," Reynolds said, handing McCallum the pad.

The captain scrolled through it quickly, grunting here and there in acknowledgment of the requests. "That hit in the cargo bay really hurt us, I see."

"Yes sir, but Master Chief Harkens seems to have things well in hand."

"Harkens. Good man," McCallum commented as he downloaded the data from the pad to his own console before handing it back to Reynolds. "Alright, I'll see how much of the Master Chief's shopping list I can get. Won't be able to make any promises, but we might get lucky."

"Yes sir."

"In the meantime, I've ordered the XO to get you a data dump on Thule. If you find you need any additional info, ask and he'll see what he can do."

"Thank you sir."

The nod dismissed Reynolds and she turned to leave after a brisk salute. Even before she was off the bridge Reynolds was busy browsing through her pad to check out the mission data. According to the overview, Thule was a UNE Mark IV station that housed a major research project started up shortly before the war broke out. It was also shut down not long after the Akira Incident, which was a surprisingly short lifespan considering the expenses of setting up deep space stations. The station itself was now little more than a backwater outpost with only a skeleton crew to keep an eye on things.

The majority of the station's active defenses were apparently never actually installed, meaning there was no way it could possibly hold off a Colonial attempt to seize it. At the same time, that at least meant there were no major fixed defenses the Colonials could take over and then turn on her ships. That meant any opposition was likely to compose of mobile units, probably light craft and corvettes. Based on the distances involved, the only Colonial capital ships that could reach Thule in time to try to intercept _Arcadia_ and _Mercury_ were frigates so she had to take into account that possibility. A single frigate would be no match for their current numbers and even a pair would be manageable if her light craft did a good enough job shutting down torpedo attacks.

By the time Reynolds returned to fighter control, she already had a good idea of how she wanted her units deployed. The only thing left to do was see how closely they aligned with whatever Khaldi and Dubois had come up with and make adjustments as necessary.

"Ma'am," Khaldi greeted when he saw her enter.

"Alright, we've got some firmer orders," Reynolds said, getting down to business immediately. "We're headed to the Thule outpost to pick something up. The outpost is UNE, but it only has minimal defenses and if the Cindies push, they're likely to beat us there. In that case, they'll likely have control of the surrounding space and may even have boots on the station waiting for us. Our job will be to take control of the area to allow for boarding parties to kick the Cindies off our property."

"Excuse me ma'am, but do we know exactly what it is we're picking up at Thule?" Dubois asked.

"The captain didn't say and I didn't ask," Reynolds replied.

Dubois rolled her eyes, eliciting a frown from Reynolds.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"Well ma'am, I guess I'd just like a bit more reassurance that what we're doing will make some kind of difference," Dubois said. "We just got our asses handed to us at Sybille. If the Captain thinks he's got some way of doing what the entire navy failed to do, I'd love to hear it."

For a moment Reynolds nearly succumbed to the urge to bite off Dubois' head and hand it to the lieutenant. Reynolds did not have a reputation as a loose warhead, but she did have a reputation for not suffering fools lightly. She was still not quite certain if Dubois was simply trying to cover her ass, a rather pointless exercise at this point, or if she was still suffering from the shock of the fleet's catastrophic defeat, and that uncertainty was the only reason Reynolds did not snare at the lieutenant. Instead, she responded politely, clearly, but sternly.

"Whether the Captain has elected to fully inform us of all of the mission parameters is a moot point, Lieutenant. He has issued his orders and provided us with what we need to know to achieve our portion of the operation. Collecting whatever it is on Thule that is needed is the job of the marines. Ours is to secure the space around Thule, escort the marines to the station, hold the space while they go about their job, and then see them home safely. As such, I suggest you focus on our assignment and not on matters that are not immediately relevant to the task at hand."

This time Dubois' face flushed in what was obviously not embarrassment, but the lieutenant had the sense to simply nod and keep her mouth shut. Reynolds barely suppressed a sigh before looking over at Khaldi.

"Now, Khaldi, why don't you go over what you and Dubois have come up with?"

The lieutenant nodded and began laying out the basic formation. It was simple and straightforward, which was to be expected considering their available numbers. Now all they had to do was make sure to win against the entire Colonial Independence Navy.

End of Chapter 2

It says bloody sad things that I'm so swamped with work that I can't even work up the focus to chop up and upload a story I already finished in its entirety. Ah well.

_Honor_ as a story was meant to show more of the rank and file perspective, of the men and women actively fighting in the thick of things, so the social, economic, and political dimensions of the war took a back seat. The opening snippets are therefore intended to try to fill in some of the holes here, to show the perspectives of the people that Adams and Reynolds are killing. The developers only hinted at the wider backstory of the game, but it was never developed further. A shame, that. But it does leave me considerable leeway in carving my own image into the universe.


	4. Chapter 3

Briefing on Naval Ship Classification

Modern warships generally fall into one of two categories, light craft and capital ships. Light craft, as their name imply, are small vessels that rarely have crews larger than two or three. Notable exceptions are corvettes, which can have upwards of fifteen to twenty crewmembers. Besides the mass disparity between light craft and capital ships, the principle difference between the two groups is the weapons systems each can mount. Light craft tend to have fairly low-density plasma weapons whereas capital ships are armed with heavy plasma or beam weaponry.

For several years following the birth of the UNE's spacefaring navy, the largest ships topped out at what is currently considered frigate tonnage. There seemed little reason to build anything larger, especially as frigates seemed to strike an excellent balance. The frigates were economical in that they were the smallest frames that could reasonably mount the newly developed heavy plasma cannons. Those same cannons meant a frigate could easily defeat anything smaller in a one-on-one engagement. Larger ships might have been able to mount more heavy plasma weapons but would have cost more and afforded less flexibility, or so the reasoning went. That reasoning was sorely tested and found wanting with the advent of the beam cannon.

Essentially a highly miniaturized particle accelerator, the beam cannon was one of the major breakthroughs in weapons technology for the interstellar era. Its power requirements were stupendous but its destructive capacity more than made up for it. Able to rip apart frigate sized hulls in a matter of minutes, the tactical advantages of a warship equipped with beam cannons was too much to pass up no matter how much the bean counters might howl. The UNE Navy took the opportunity offered by the new weapon to commission a new class of warships now generally referred to as cruisers.

Large enough to mount sufficient fusion reactors to power multiple beam cannons and heavily armored enough that it could brush aside plasma fire almost contemptuously, cruisers harken back to the battleship of oceanic navies in their power. In a stand-up fight, a cruiser is almost guaranteed to demolish any opponent and survive any fire that may come in response. The initial series of cruisers tended to be the centerpieces of frigate taskforces, acting as command ships, or be dispatched on independent missions due to their durability and power. It was only later that cruisers were organized into distinct squadrons, forming the core of larger fleets. Today, a squadron of cruisers is generally the most forceful way any side can choose to make a point.

The only deployed class of warships that outmass cruisers is the carrier. This class actually came to fruition before the cruiser as the value of a carrier type for light craft was recognized early on in the history of the UNE. Designed to be able to deploy a wing of light craft, carriers had to be massive in scale. At the same time with most of their mass dedicated to supporting light craft, their armament was originally proportionally even lighter than that of frigates. Newer generations of carriers have significantly increased their offensive weapons and the Colonial variant is even armored heavily enough to go toe to toe against a cruiser. Carriers are however not intended to be frontline combatants and usually deploy their light craft from a distance. Any weapons and armor are primarily to deter attempts to attack the carrier, not to provide direct fire support with other capital ships.

Rear Admiral Ricardo Manning

Director of CIN Training

Colonial Independence Navy

Chapter 3: Shadow Cast

The moment her fighter folded back into normal space, its alarms began blaring.

"Contacts," Reynolds said over the radio. "I've got nine boogies vectoring towards us."

"Looks like they brought along some troop transports," Khaldi said, "and a frigate."

"Take out the patrol first and then the transports," Reynolds ordered. "If we're lucky they haven't all boarded the station yet."

With a full squadron at her back, the nine colonial fighters were dead meat. The skirmish was over almost before it began as a wave of missiles smashed into the enemy ranks. A few managed to set off EM pulses but they lasted only moments longer than their less fortunate comrades.

"Reaper, Brigit, Viper, focus on the transports," Reynolds ordered. "We'll cover you."

Two 'rogers' and a click answered her and the trio of fighters shifted behind the rest of the squadron. The others followed Reynolds' charge as they once more slashed into an enemy formation. Reynolds downed her own target with remarkable ease and swung about to face offer another trying to chase her. It quickly fell prey to a burst of plasma and spun away out of control. The enemy never had a chance to try to steady the fighter as another burst of plasma detonated it.

Three icons suddenly raced past Reynolds and she quickly vectored to give chase. Only Adams, McBride, and Saito had been loaded with rocket pods and so it fell upon them to kill the transports, just as it was Reynolds' job to make sure they survived the experience. The enemy screen was in tatters and no one approached to challenge them however and a hurricane of destruction rolled over the transports as the three fighters unloaded their salvos. Reynolds had no idea how many soldiers were actually still onboard but a full transport could hold upwards of an entire battalion and they had just destroyed three outright.

"Now for the fun part," Reynolds muttered.

Conventional wisdom stated that attacking a capital ship, even a mere frigate, with fighters tended to be pointless. Granted fighters mounted heavier weapons than interceptors, but generally only the torpedoes mounted by bombers had any chance of punching through the heavy armor. On the other hand these were colonial frigates and despite expending so many rockets taking out the freighters Adams and the others still had plenty left over for their new target.

"Escorts, target point defenses," Reynolds ordered. "Alpha flight, I want that frigate turned into scrap."

The order was barely finished before Adams rolled and began an attack run on the frigate. Reynolds was right behind, doing her best to discourage the few surviving enemy light craft from trying to chase her wingman. That left Adams free to open up on the frigate and a steady stream of rockets smashed into the rear nacelle. The single flak turret was ripped to shreds and secondary explosions blossomed as Adams' salvo blasted apart the thinly armored compartment. All Colonial frigates shared the same fundamental flaw of a civilian origin in their design or construction and despite their best efforts the CIN had been unable to completely compensate for the various structural weaknesses that plagued the ships. It was a weakness Reynolds and her squadron was more than happy to exploit.

Adams peeled aside before flipping about to make an attack run on the second flak turret. He was a bit too slow however as two missiles smashed into the turret and Reynolds flew over the burning hull before pulling away. Plasma buffeted her ship as other point defense guns zeroed in on her but they too were silenced as the rest of the squadron swarmed the frigate. Wreckage soon dotted the hull marking destroyed gun emplacements and ruptured sections. With its defenses disabled, the fighters had free reign and blasted away at the weak points in the ship's hull.

By the time the marine transport folded in, softly glowing wreckage was all that remained of the CIN capital ship. What was left of Dubois' interceptor squadron was flying escort while _Arcadia_ and _Mercury_ hung further out. Reynolds' squadron moved in to reinforce the interceptors, a wise decision as new contacts started appearing.

"Incoming," Khaldi reported. "Detecting multiple heavies making runs for the transport."

"Our weapons won't be enough to discourage them," Dubois pointed out.

"Noted," Reynolds said a bit coldly. "207, move in and welcome them appropriately."

The fighters broke off into pairs and charged their new targets. Colonial heavy fighters were remarkably tough for their size and from a purely theoretical comparison were more than a match for the standard UNE fighter. As always however the CIN's greatest constraint was in finding the personnel to man all of its ships. Though all heavy fighter pilots were supposed to be skilled veterans the difference between victory and death was often a mere knife's edge, an edge that spilled blood with ready ease.

With only rockets in his loadout, Adams was not able to dish out enough damage to guarantee solid kills of the heavies so he contented himself to blowing away their shields and peppering their hulls with a few bursts of plasma. The coup de grace was delivered by Reynolds as her missiles smashed into the targets softened up by her wingman. This combination was repeated several times over by the rest of the squadron as they slaughtered the CIN attack force. None made it close enough to engage the interceptors, much less threaten the transport.

"Area secure," Reynolds reported.

"Understood," McCallum replied. "Keep watch while the boarding team secures the station.

"Yes sir."

The troop transport arrived at the station unmolested and Reynolds listened in on the reports from the marine commander. Not surprisingly, the marines were running into heavy resistance. Reynolds' attention was however soon diverted as new contacts appeared on the sensors.

"Incoming Cindy tin cans," Khaldi said. "Vector confirmed, they're making attack runs on the _Arcadia_."

"Focus on any torpedoes," Reynolds ordered. "Alpha flight, with me."

The four fighters peeled away from the shell protecting _Arcadia_ and raced forth to meet the incoming corvettes.

"Cycle through, formation beta-5."

Acknowledgements were followed by Saito taking the lead with Adams right behind. The rockets mounted by the trio were the best option for taking down corvettes but their unguided nature meant they would need to be fired from close range to guarantee hits. Getting that close however was not an easy proposition thanks to a corvette's point defenses and missiles. UNE pilots had however developed a simple tactic for dealing with these challenges, as the other three pilots were now demonstrating.

Reynolds threw her in ship into the screen of enemy fighters escorting their target, blowing one apart before pulling away. By now Adams' course had actually diverged from merely tailing Saito, who was making an attack run on the larger ship. Her rockets smashed into the hull, blowing apart the flak turret and breaching the armor but not quite managing to destroy the target. That job fell to Adams who began his own run just as Saito was chased off by a missile launched from the corvette. Slipping through the corvette's defensive perimeter, Adams unloaded on the ship and was rewarded with a bright ball of fire.

Saito was already moving on the second corvette and this time McBride was acting as the backup. Reynolds maneuvered to tail Saito, picking off one of the escorts that tried to derail the other woman's attack. Another enemy exploded to the side and Reynolds mentally noted Adams' signal approaching from that vector. With the way clear, Saito launched another volley, crippling the corvette for McBride to finish the job.

"Pods dry," Saito reported.

"Understood. Reaper, take point."

A click and Adams was off, charging in. Instead of hitting and running however, he reversed acceleration as his fighter closed in on the corvette and sent a hail of rockets at the ship. The extra time he spent flying relative to the corvette was more than enough to finish killing it, even if he was exposing himself recklessly to return fire.

"Reaper, stick with the formation," Reynolds snapped.

We need to kill them faster, came the response.

Looking at the tactical display, Reynolds cursed. A steady stream of torpedoes had been raining down on _Arcadia_ and though the rest of her squadron was putting on a valiant effort, they were going to be overwhelmed.

"Dubois, get your interceptors back to _Arcadia_!" Reynolds ordered.

"What about the transport?"

"It'll keep, get moving now!"

"Yes ma'am," Dubois replied stiffly.

"Alright Reaper, you're with me. Viper, cover Brigit. We're splitting up."

"Yes ma'am."

"Ma'am."

Click.

With Adams tailing her once more, Reynolds threw herself at the third corvette.

"I'll draw its fire, take it out as fast as you can."

Without waiting for a response, Reynolds opened up on the corvette. Her plasma splashed off the hull, scorching it here and there but not managing any meaningful penetration or damage. The flak turret swung around to track her but Reynolds was already diving to get out of its field of fire. Swinging around, Reynolds ignored the corvette and pounced on another fighter escort. She just finished chewing through it when Adams came about with the fiery wreck of his own target drifting behind.

Almost out of rockets.

"Then let's make them count."

Their last target was twisting about to avoid giving Adams an easy shot even as it defiantly spewed flak. Reynolds again took the lead and this time her own approach was mostly unmolested, the corvette commander having wised up to the tactic. It was a reasonable, albeit predictable reaction, and because it was predictable it was also easily countered. While Reynolds did not mount the more destructive rockets, she still had plenty of missiles left and began letting them off as quickly as they would lock on.

Suddenly finding itself bombarded by the first attacker, the corvette rolled to bring its guns to bear against Reynolds just as Adams began his own run. A brief flurry of rockets smashed into the corvette as Adams expended the rest of his payload and combined with the damage already inflicted by his squadron leader, the corvette succumbed and broke apart.

With their charges destroyed, the CIN fighters pulled away and began folding out. Reynolds did not bother giving chase, instead turning towards the station.

"Area secure," she reported.

"Understood," McCallum said. "Control, do you have everything loaded? I'm not leaving anything behind for the Colonials."

"Almost captain," a feminine and crisp voice responded. "There is one more item however. I have a ship. I need a pilot."

"Flight team leader Reynolds is the best we have," McCallum said.

Reynolds was certainly not going to contest the captain's claim but apparently Control did not completely agree.

"I've reviewed the records of your pilots. I want Adams."

A spike of alarm jolted through Reynolds and she glanced over at her wingman floating to the side.

"Alright Adams, you heard her," McCallum said. "Dock with the station and take possession of the ship."

A click and Adams turned towards the station.

"Sir," Reynolds said, opening a private channel to McCallum. "What's going on? And who is this Control?"

"Control is a predictive tactics AI," McCallum replied. "If we're to have any chance of succeeding against the Cindies, we're going to need her."

"And this ship?"

"No idea unfortunately," McCallum said. "Most of Thule's projects are classified."

"I see sir," Reynolds said, her unease growing.

If someone in her squad was going to bite the bullet on some new, untested ship, she really would have preferred it be her. Reynolds knew she was good, as good as if not better than Adams. Yet this AI chose him instead for some reason. Until she knew what that reason was, this whole thing would continue eating at her.

"Sir, I'm going to have my squadron dock and rearm while we have the time," Reynolds reported to McCallum.

"Understood," McCallum replied.

"Alright squad, we're going to rotate half and half. Brigit, Viper, you'll stick with rockets in case the Cindies decide to spring more corvettes, or god help us, a frigate on us."

"If they'd be so kind to only sic a frigate on us, I'll count my blessings," McBride said.

"Oh no you didn't Brigit," another pilot chimed in. "You did not just jinx us with a cruiser."

"Hey, at least I didn't say what they could send," McBride protested.

"No, but you were probably thinking about a carrier instead," yet another pilot quipped.

"Save the chatter for after we have full loads," Reynolds interrupted. "And if the Cindies really did send a cruiser all the way out here, then we should thank them properly for the compliment with Kern's boys and girls."

"You're no fun LT," McBride said.

"That's Lieutenant Commander to you," Reynolds replied with a grin. "Now get to it."

To Reynolds' surprise, Adams still had not launched from Thule when she herself had finished cycling through. She was about to try contacting Thule when a craft unlike any she had ever seen emerged from the station. The ship was big, at least the size of a bomber but moving with a speed and grace that easily matched her own fighter.

"What the hell is that," Reynolds muttered to herself.

It also looked clunky with a pair of pylons attached to the underside of what was already a rather fat core. Most light craft classes were at least somewhat aerodynamic for the rare instances where they needed to fly in-atmosphere but this thing was obviously never intended for such an eventuality. When Adams maneuvered the craft about and opened up on the wreckages of the corvettes the grace with which it flew made it quite clear despite the somewhat lumpy look, it was designed to fly and fight in space. As her wingman continued cleaning up the trash however, Reynolds frowned. They obviously had whatever they came to Thule for, so why was the taskforce hanging about. Her confusion only grew as suddenly the _Mercury_ lit its engines and vectored away from the _Arcadia_.

"Reynolds," McCallum suddenly called over the radio.

"Yes sir?"

"_Mercury_ is being detached for another mission but we won't be leaving just yet," the captain said. "Control has some sort of plan that requires us to stay put, but the Cindies are almost certainly going to be back in force. I need you and your squadrons to hold the line while we wait."

It looked like her decision to cycle the squadron was turning out to be prophetic.

"Did the AI even explain what we're waiting for sir?" Reynolds found herself asking.

"Not entirely, but assuming her self-preservation subroutines are still working correctly, she's not trying to hang us out to dry considering she's onboard _Arcadia_ now."

"I hope so sir."

"You and me both. McCallum out."

"Lovely," Reynolds muttered before switching to the squadron channel. "Alright boys and girls, it seems we'll be staying put for a bit. The Cindies know we're here and they're almost certain to want some payback. But so do we, and let's make it clear we want it more."

As she finished passing on the new orders, Reynolds maneuvered her own fighter to meet up with Adams.

"How's the ship?" she asked.

_Weird as all hell_, came the text response. _There's some strange flight mode that Control's been trying to explain to me but I haven't quite figured-_

The text abruptly ended as alarms blared.

"New contacts!" Khaldi reported. "Sensors make it out to be four tin cans and, two frigates!"

Reynolds cursed. "Bloody hell, alpha flight, we're sweeping the tin cans. Everyone else, defensive perimeter around the _Arcadia_. Do not let any torpedoes through! Captain, I think we're going to need Kern and his bombers."

"About what I was thinking," McCallum replied. "But they're not going to make any successful runs without some escorts."

"Once we take down the corvettes, me and Reaper'll take care of that."

"Understood. Good luck."

"Thanks," Reynolds muttered. "We're gonna need it."

The four fighters charged forth with Adams and Reynolds tearing through the enemy screen with little effort. McBride and Saito were right behind, swatting aside the torpedoes just launched by the incoming corvettes. Adams was already making a run on a tin can, pounding it with rockets before he blew past. Saito followed to take advantage of his diversion while McBride watched her back. Reynolds in turn cleared the way for Adams' second run, drawing away the pair of fighters hovering protectively over their charge. Their effort was for naught however as Adams and then McBride pounded the second corvette into scrap.

With two corvettes down, the survivors were bunching together closer to try to offer each other more support. The engagement degenerated into a series of dogfights as the surviving escorts tried to cut Reynolds' flight down with sheer numbers. The effort was for naught however as the UNE fighters slashed through with almost appalling ease. The remaining corvettes did not last much longer as Reynolds' flight repeated their previous runs with equal success. The surviving Colonial fighters made a dash for their frigates and Reynolds let them go. There were more important things to worry about after all.

"_Arcadia_, we're on our way back," Reynolds said. "Tin cans have been scrapped."

"We could use the help Angel," Khaldi said. "The frigates are trying to overwhelm _Arcadia_ with torpedoes and we can't get close enough to knock out their plasma turrets."

"Alright flight, we're blowing through from behind them. Unload on the turrets if possible, but we need to get between them and _Arcadia_."

The four split into pairs once more and rushed straight into the hornet's nest. The enemy fighters seemed almost taken aback by the sudden challenge but managed to muster a response. Reynolds barely had time to lock on one missile before she was past the frigate and spinning about to evade its flak. Adams seemed to have done a bit better as a series of explosions rocked the frigate's neck, but the plasma cannon continued to spit fire at the carrier.

"Damn," Reynolds muttered. "Brigit, Viper, status?"

"Think we knocked it out ma'am, but Viper's shot up pretty badly," McBride replied.

"There's no way she can land in this mess," Reynolds said. "Viper, hang back by _Arcadia_. Keep watch but don't do anything stupid."

"Acknowledged ma'am," Saito said as her fighter limped back to the carrier.

"Reaper, priority is torpedo-oh shit!"

Before Reynolds could even finish her orders, eight more torpedoes came roaring toward _Arcadia_. This time they were flanked by half a dozen enemy fighters, making it highly doubtful they would down all of the torpedoes before they reached the carrier. That however did not mean they would not try.

"Alright Reaper, back into the fire."

Wait

Reynolds blinked. "What? Wait what?"

Think I figured it out

Before Reynolds could press for further explanation, Adams dashed forth and placed himself in front of the oncoming wave. Suddenly, the ship seemed to unfold as the pylons extended out. Reynolds was almost certainly she was hallucinating as suddenly a humanoid form appeared in place of Adams' large and bulky fighter. The next moment, Reynolds _knew_ she was hallucinating as over two dozen missiles erupted from the craft and raced out to meet the torpedoes and fighters. All of the torpedoes disappeared in a flash and at least two thirds of the escorting fighters died with them. The survivors were all damaged, some so badly Reynolds would not be surprised if their systems overloaded spontaneously in the next few seconds. But that hardly mattered. What mattered was Adams had by himself just swatted aside a dozen incoming targets in a single instant. The ship folded back into its compact form and Adams shot forth, already working on finishing off the few weakened enemy fighters lingering about.

Reynolds did not know how long she simply flew about, numbed by the sudden destruction. Reality however quickly broke her trance as her shields flared red. Throwing her fighter about, Reynolds locked onto her pursuer and nailed it with a missile. Turning back to the larger battle, Reynolds bore witness to the aftershocks of Adams' actions.

The Colonial forces were even more taken aback by Adams' onslaught and seemed to stagger even as Reynolds' squadron pressed the sudden reversal. Soon however more and more Colonial fighters dove in, almost all of them charging for Adams. That turned out to be a fatal mistake however as Adams transformed again, blowing apart over half of his pursuers with another salvo of those incredible missiles.

Little help with torpedoes please.

The call immediately saw several of his squad mates shifting their attention to another incoming salvo. Even in all the chaos the frigates had not ceased their bombardment and with his own preoccupations Adams had been forced out of position. With the space cleared of so many enemies however, the rest of the squadron easily cut through the torpedoes.

Just as Reynolds began thinking they might make it, alarms sounded again as the sensors detected new fold signatures.

"Multiple incoming! Wait, IFF confirmed! Two UNE cruisers and a frigate!"

Reynolds felt her heart almost jump out of her chest as three large friendlies appeared on the plot. They immediately began unloading on the frigates and the beam weaponry on the cruisers easily sliced through the much thinner armor of the Colonial warships.

"Hold position," Reynolds ordered. "Keep the enemy off _Arcadia_."

The wisdom of her order was soon verified as the frigates spat out another salvo of torpedoes despite buckling under the cruiser bombardment. One exploded mere moments later and the other would not outlive it for long, but Reynolds' concern was on their last gasp attempt on her carrier.

That concern was soon shifted as Adams transformed again, a beacon of fold energy spitting fire as he blew apart the torpedoes. As the signature faded however, he was suddenly on the receiving end as missiles and plasma rained down upon him. It seemed as if almost every surviving Colonial fighter had set their sights on him, trying so far vainly to destroy this miracle craft that had bloodied them so. Adams did his best but under such crossfire his ship was taking hits.

"Hold on Reaper," Reynolds said. "We're coming in!"

So preoccupied, the Colonial fighters were completely exposed as the squadron plowed through. Ships blew apart left and right but still Adams was bombarded. Status readouts from his ship was showing more and more damage and Reynolds threw herself almost recklessly into the fray, crashing into an enemy ship and depleting her own shields even as her victim was smashed apart.

Suddenly another fighter appeared beside Adam and unleashed a torrent of rockets. The onslaught caught several Colonial ships unprepared and more than a handful careened away. Others responded by shifting their wrath to this newcomer and poured fire upon her. A second later, a signal dropped from Reynolds' HUD.

"Viper!"

The cry came far too late but Reynolds could not help herself. A fit of rage seized upon her and as if channeling that anger, Adams' fighter flared once more. In the next instant, another dozen Colonial fighters blossomed into fireballs. None burned bright enough to match the fury for Saito's death.

End of Chapter 3

There is a fine line between a character death that is gratuitous and one that is impactful. Sato's was probably too blatant to be the latter, though I think I had gotten good enough back when I wrote this that it was not really the former. It was all very much a learning experience, as indicated by the still somewhat sparse expansion of events. In my later works I was capable of going into much more depth regarding the behind the scenes bits that we didn't get to see in canon. Here, it still mostly tracks alongside the actual missions one played.


End file.
